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Two Poems

Albert Goldbarth

Issue 112, Winter 1989

Domains

July. The ragweed’s ultramealy sex is in the airand, with the window wide for breeze, is in whateverdamp reception-pits my cranium throwsopen to such drift. The tradeoffs halfass coolfor fullblown clog, and nothing’s going to please me.8 p.m. I close the window when the viciousness of 12-year-oldsacross the street accrues too much: “You fartface,Julie! You asshole ass!”—from one. And from another:“Drooly Julie eats booooogers! Go rot with boogers!”She does go—crying, I can see, and from what I can seeher major crime is she’s twice the size of the others, tusha gravity-sagging target just begging for insult, anda set of Asian/Negro features mixed past the borders of peeracceptability. A truly shitty day. Although